


An Evolving Tradition

by WritersKilt



Category: Free!
Genre: Inside his mind he's a poet, M/M, Take my hand, slight angst, the scene that really leaves an impression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2015-10-07
Packaged: 2018-04-25 07:41:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4952113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritersKilt/pseuds/WritersKilt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Makoto would <i>always</i> be there for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Evolving Tradition

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DraconianScribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DraconianScribe/gifts).



> A very Happy Birthday Scarlett! I'm glad that I came to know you! But you ruined me. Anyway, I feel great writing for you regardless. And a tad (lot) apprehensive. Haha. Have an amazing year ahead!

It was a crisp lonely winter morning. Haru knew, since the water was frigid against his skin. He didn’t mind, unless of course, the liquid state should compromise its solidity to push him out. Water was after all, just water; knowingly revitalising and sheltering him. Water made him feel whole, the way it coursed through his skin and gathered his wayward thoughts. Hacking away his hackneyed insecurities. In a solitary bliss, he was eternally made aware of the way, the water embraced him and didn’t let him leave. How, he himself could never leave…

His dream concluded with an imperceptibly starry eyed transition, to reveal a ready warm hand freely reaching out like an omnipresent offer. He let his body loose in turn, completely trusting this hand. As he had for countless years. To that kind hearted soul, of which he was so well acquainted with as his own. He would willingly leave his niche, because he somehow knew that there would always be that someone to pull him out, gently, determinedly, zealously… The incessant and unwavering acceptance conveyed by that simple gesture made him feel loved and reassured.

Over the years, while submersed in the depths of his memories, the water surrounding and supporting his consciousness. Haru had come to relate this evolving tradition, from an innocuous act of friendship to a growing tenderness of intimacy. He felt a bit foolish when at times he would simply wait and tend to his expectations. His expectations though, never failed him. He didn’t like to think about how there could always be that possibility of disappointment. How, one day Makoto may not be there for him. It went against the very fundamentals of his fabricated realities. The fact itself, in those lone times; made him glide towards the surface and rush out for air. It made him shake his head adamantly.

**_No._ **

Makoto would _always_ be there for him.

Then he would look above, he would feel first and then see the benign smile that would grace his soft features. The slight tilt of his head, and the sparkle (when did he become such a poet?) accompanied by the slight shuttering of his viridescent eyes. 

“Haru” 

It didn’t feel so lonely then. 

At times, when those deep green eyes of his pierced him. He would feel searched, like Makoto was reassuring _himself_ for something… However, it didn’t annoy him. It just, made him want to evade it. He didn’t exactly understand how he had come to develop this fortune. The exasperating weighing in always led to the questions he really wanted to avoid.

Why? And for how long?

After a while he would dive in the comforts of his preferred habitat. Things seemed easier then. 

_He knew that one day he might come to believe that he could be a bit closer to actually; perhaps, be worthy of it._

 

Makoto somehow made him rise to his greatest heights, however he also had the capacity to make him sink to his deepest.

 


End file.
